


What it Takes For a Man to Snap

by Supernova95



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - Fandom, DCU, DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 16:43:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/889526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supernova95/pseuds/Supernova95
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ra’s admit it, as much as you hate the thought; the reason you’ve never killed Bruce is because the world needs him, the world needs a Batman, a Bruce Batman." Tim looked up from his place, kneeling at Ra’s’ feet, the swords that held him there slipping closer to his throat.</p>
<p>Ra’s laughed “And doesn’t Batman need a Robin?</p>
<p>"Batman has a Robin"</p>
            </blockquote>





	What it Takes For a Man to Snap

"Ra’s admit it, as much as you hate the thought; the reason you’ve never killed Bruce is because the world needs him, the world needs a Batman, a Bruce Batman." Tim looked up from his place, kneeling at Ra’s’ feet, the swords that held him there slipping closer to his throat.

Ra’s laughed “And doesn’t Batman need a Robin?

"Batman has a Robin"

"Just not Timothy Drake" Tim glared, saying nothing “and, Timothy Drake, what would you give me if I were to believe you and help you?"

"I-" Tim stalled, not knowing what exactly to say, he would give anything.

"Yes? Just what does the return of the Detective mean to you?" Tim’s eyes sharpened, baiting Ra’s to continue, to say that Bruce meant nothing to him, when no response came he looked away and down. An admittance of a fact they both knew, “Everything, you, you can have whatever you want"

"And what if I want you?" Tim looked up, eyes defeated, he just needed Bruce back. That was all that mattered.

"You can have that too"

-

They had a deal, and Tim really didn’t mind that his ‘room’ could barely fit the mattress he was to sleep on and that there was only one tiny window at the top of the cell (really that was what it was).

Because Ra’s had agreed to get Bruce back; he wasn’t gone, just lost, even if Dick couldn’t see that.

So Tim could get through this, he had to get through this. He had to somehow push past all the hurt, all the pain; he somehow had to not think about all the touches, all the looks.

For Bruce.

And he had to do it without Robin.

Robin: who was his sword and shield, who was the reason Tim could endure and carry on, how even though all the death and despair Tim came out stronger, better. With Robin Tim had a purpose, Tim was needed, Tim could be the best.

Without Robin who was Tim? Tim was just a nerdy kid with a camera and too much time on his hands. Without Robin he was nothing.

Tim couldn’t survive this unscathed, he couldn’t bounce back, not from this. But he could- he  _would_  survive. Yes he would be broken, compromised and unclean.

But he would survive.

Because Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne is a survivor, he is strong, he’s not just Tim Drake; boy with a camera and neglectful parents, he has become more than just Robin: Terror of the night, he had a family and they will be expecting him to make it. So he can.

Bruce would be alive; and that would make everything worth it.

-

When he had gotten the call from Superman, Dick thought he was dreaming, that is was a late April Fool’s joke, or he was being pranked.

When the man-  _his mentor, his father_ \- was standing before him in the cave, completely unharmed and  _alive_  the walls Dick built in his absence crumbled away, leaving only heart break.

Tim.

Tim had been right. All along Tim had known, had seen and believed what they couldn’t comprehend and the last time Dick had seen Tim was just under a year ago.

Yes he had left phone call after phone call, he even went round to Tim’s numerous safe-houses to see if he was staying in any of them. When he hadn’t found him he had given up, moved on and forgotten, not bothered to check any more. Dick just assumed Tim was staying with his friends at the titans, away from Gotham.

Dick just assumed Tim wasn’t talking to him because he was mad and grieving, just like he had been when Jack and died, and Steph, and Kon and Bart.

But when Bruce came back and the first thing he asks is “Where’s Robin? Where’s Tim?” it’s like a sledge hammer to Dick’s heart, which shatters into a thousand pieces, because Tim doesn’t give up. He doesn’t get an idea in his head and then just forget about it.

He’s the most like Bruce in that way; Tim obsesses.

Tim had believed with everything he had and more that Bruce was still alive. He wouldn’t have just given up on that because Dick told him to; he would have done something about it.

Dick would have thought Tim would be with Bruce when he got back, Tim was so determined after all.

He just hoped that whatever Tim did; it didn’t get him killed.

-

“Where’s Robin? Where’s Tim?”

“I- I don’t know.”

-

The touch was so soft, so tentative but Bruce’s wasn’t. He immediately snatched the small thin hand in his own, pressing it to his skin, holding it against his cheek, reassuring them both that the other was real. 

"Why couldn’t you just forget me?" The whisper was strong yet heartbroken.

"Tim! How… how could I? I love you, you are everything… Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you were gone?" He knows his voice is coming out harsher than he would have liked, but he also knows his eyes tell a different story. A softer, loving, needing, pleading story. One that Tim understands intimately. So Bruce stands to leave, makes his way to the door and fully expects the younger man to follow in his wake.

But Tim doesn’t. Instead he turns towards the window and in the moonlight Bruce can see his tear streaked face. “I can’t. We made a deal."

"Deal? What deal? Tim, what are you talking about?" but he doesn’t have to ask who. This is Ra’s compound. This small cold, damp, dark and bare room belongs to Ra’s… As did everything in it.

"Ra’s. Ra’s and I made a deal. I knew you weren’t dead, but nobody would believe me," Tim turned towards him again eyes full of pain hurt and betrayal. “Nobody but Ra’s. So we made a deal. Ra’s uses his vast resources to bring you back, and in return he gets me, to do with as he wishes."  Bruce doesn’t quite feel he knees smashing against the stone floor, not quite.

The feel of thin arms around him is suddenly heaven and hell, a reminder of what’s been missing, and what he has still lost. It doesn’t help that Tim his shushing him, like he’s a child who’s fallen over in the park, or who’s lost in a supermarket. Because he’s not, he’s a father who has lost a son, a man who has lost his lover “Hey shhh Bruce, it’s all okay. You’re alright, your back and that’s all that matters." Small hands gently wipe away his tears, a smile gracing Tim’s lips.

“No Tim, no it’s not. Ra’s didn’t help me get back. Clark did. He didn’t hold up his end of the bargain.” Bruce was getting more and more desperate. “Are you listening to me? Ra’s didn’t hold up his part of the deal, so neither do you.” The confusion was obvious on Tim’s face, then suddenly he turned sharply to the door.

“Bruce, someone’s coming, you need to get out of here.”

-

The guards say nothing as they open the door. Neither does Tim. Their armour; the fact that they were carrying multiple weapons; as well at the weariness at which they beheld Tim told Bruce that Tim most probably put up a fight, at first.

But as in all things, time wears you down. Tim probably just didn’t see a point in fighting anymore and Bruce looked on sympathetically; neither would he.

They took Tim to the inner most parts of the compound; Ra’s chambers and left him by an ornate door, he knocks twice and enters immediately; it’s a thing of routine and Tim’s words hang in the air;

_“So we made a deal. Ra’s uses his vast resources to bring you back, and in return he gets me, to do with as he wishes.”_

Bruce was by the door as the words pooled anger in the pit of his stomach.

-

"Get your hands off him Ra’s" Bruce’s low growl resonated around the obnoxiously large bedroom.

Ra’s was slowly undressing Tim on the bed, the boy small and obediently pliant in his arms, though clearly hating every touch.

"Ah, Detective, nice of you to finally join us. Timothy and I were just getting started, weren’t, we Timothy?" The hand on the teen’s neck was possessive and firm, earning a small moan from the boy. “We were beginning to think that you weren’t coming…" There was evident disappointment in his voice.

"Let go of my son Ra’s"

"I don’t think so Detective, in fact Timothy thinks you should join us" the hand Ra’s didn’t have on Tim’s neck snaked around his lithe form until it was lightly brushing the front of his pants. Tim’s bare legs shivered, knees knocking together as a small gasp left his mouth.

"Bruce!" Tim’s wide eyes and slacked jaw made him pay attention to the pair in front of him but the utter desperation in which his name was called made him take a step towards them. “Bruce! Bruce please!"

Tim had been conditioned to want, to lust, to need everything that Ra’s would give him. As much as it broke Bruce’s heart it boiled his blood in anger; Dick had let this happen, Dick had turned his back on Bruce’s son, Bruce’s perfect little baby boy who needed taking care of.

"Shhh, it’s okay Tim, I’m here" his hand came up to slowly caress Tim’s cheek, making him tilt his head upwards before Bruce leaned down to slowly capture Tim’s lips in a deep kiss.

"Now detective, shall we have some fun?" Ra’s goaded.

The knife was out and slashing his throat before anyone could blink

 -

Bruce didn’t expect the League to let them go without a fight, no, but he didn’t expect them to attack Tim straight away. A feral growl escaped his lips and he was about to tear through the ninjas, until he realised they weren’t attacking Tim, they were protecting him?

“Nobody touches the Master’s belongings” One of the faceless men said and Bruce just laughed. It was light, and almost mad: maniacal.

“I just killed your precious Master for what he has done to my son, what’s to say I won’t do the same to you?”

“You are the Detective, you don’t kill.” A warning bell rang through the hall and Bruce smirked,

“Really?” Tim took the opportunity to try to make an escape, one that backfired as he was quickly overpowered. One of them pushed Tim to the floor, whilst another broke his leg as though it was nothing.

Before Tim’s shriek had finished echoing through Ra’s’ chambers the ninja ‘protecting’ Tim were on the floor unconscious and he was picking up the whimpering child. He wasn’t going to let anyone hurt his children again.

-

Bruce entered the pitch black room silently; not that it would make any difference, its only occupant would already know he’s there. Bruce taught him after all. Sitting on the end of the bed he was careful to avoid the broken limb that meant that the younger man was out of action for the foreseeable future.

Once his eyes were used to the dark, the small gap in the curtains, through which a small sliver of desert sun cascaded through, allowing him to see Tim’s partially illuminated face; streams of tears and all. It was because of that (solely because of that he tried to tell himself but he would be lying) that he moved up the bed, shifted Tim’s head into his lap and started smoothing out his son’s hair.

"Hey Timmy, it’s going to be okay." And it was, the next day they would be on a plane back to Gotham, and Tim would be with him… His son would be home and all would be right in the world. “Ra’s is gone, nobody can hurt you now"

Tim sniffed a harsh sob and reached up to grab his retreating hand as he spoke “It wasn’t me I was worried about" because with Tim it never is.


End file.
